Summary

The author reflects on personal happiness despite not fitting societal norms or having a traumatic past, and introduces the concept of cherophobia, the fear of happiness.

Abstract

The author describes an internal conflict upon realizing and admitting to being happy, despite not conforming to societal expectations such as having a grand purpose, children, or material wealth. They question the validity of their happiness given their lack of adherence to these norms and the absence of a routine or business. The author also grapples with the idea that personal happiness might be inappropriate in the face of global suffering and whether empathy necessitates a perpetual state of sadness. They reveal a history of not expressing positive emotions openly, a trait they once considered a sign of maturity. The author's journey to happiness involved overcoming childhood trauma and cherophobia, and they found joy through photography, nature blogging, and building safe relationships. The transformation is significant, as the author now experiences genuine happiness and is gradually becoming more expressive around others.

Opinions

The author feels that societal formulas for happiness, such as having a grand purpose or material success, do not apply to their personal experience of happiness.
There is a belief that expressing happiness could invite negative consequences or is inappropriate given the state of the world.
The author previously associated the expression of positive emotions with danger and unsafe situations, likely due to childhood trauma.
The author values living within their means and according to their values as a source of happiness.
They identify with Edgar Allan Poe's sentiments in the poem "Alone," indicating a long-standing feeling of being different from others.
The author has discovered that joy and its expression are crucial to their healing journey.
The concept of cherophobia is introduced as a real and identifiable fear that the author has encountered on their path to happiness.

What I Can’t Accept Within Myself

My sister texted me yesterday, quite randomly, asking “Are you happy?” I didn’t have to think for long and the answer came easily to me “Yes”.

However, admitting that I am indeed happy made me feel awkward. How can one claim to another person they are happy? Am I going to fall into depths of despair the moment I admit it out loud? Is the universe going to send me another obstacle on my way as punishment?

I have gone against all popular formulas for happiness and how can I claim to be happy? I haven’t figured out my one grand purpose. I haven’t made kids. I haven’t bought cars or a house. So am I even allowed to exist as a happy person in society? Also, I haven’t built a business and filled my moments with productive activities. I don’t wake up at 4 am and I don’t have a routine. But I am happy. Can you explain this anomaly?

Am I not allowed personal happiness because the world is going through hell? Does empathy mean I should perpetually be sad for other people and the status of the world?

I am happy and afraid to admit it fully. Afraid to show it outwardly.

The thing is, I am not cheerful around people. Instead, I become serious and I wall in my emotions. When I was at university, I worked with a professor of psychology who studied first impressions and interpersonal communication. She told me “I can’t read you at all”.

I do know that I don’t express enthusiasm and joy as easily as other people. The last emotion I would show is excitement. While all the other students cheered and acted like puppies for every announcement in the lab, I remained stoic. I liked myself for this — I thought I’m more realistic, mature, enlightened, etc.

For the longest time, I didn’t identify as a happy person. I wasn’t a happy child either and I can identify with the sentiments expressed in Edgar Alan Poe’s poem “Alone”: From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were — I have not seen

As others saw — I could not bring

My passions from a common spring —

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow — I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone —

And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone — …

But now I can laugh and have fun near my partner with who I feel safe. And my comfortability is extending to other people as well.

How did I make an initial association between the expression of positive emotion and danger? That it is not safe to be happy in front of people? The answer is in my particular flavor of childhood trauma which I will write about later.

When I feel so joyous now, it is a miraculous moment for me. I do erupt into dancing for no reason and I laugh out loud, finally. I feel content when I am relaxed and sitting with my people. I wake up and look at the person and the pet I love. I feel so grateful and blessed.

Something has fundamentally changed. I am happy because I have done what I can within my means, and I live within my values. And I am happy because I did not care for another person’s formula for my happiness.

Did you know there’s a word for the fear of happiness? Cherophobia. I just found out today.

Letting in joy and expressing it have been major parts of my healing journey. I first did this through photography and nature blogging, finding delight in the natural world. Then by letting people in and building safe relationships. I have a way to go still until I am totally comfortable being the full version of myself around people.

Thank you 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘊. for the prompt.